The sunshine was warm upon my face. I could not resist the temptation to take my slippers off and feel the grass beneath my feet. It had been three months since my accident and I had been “blindfolded” after multiple surgeries on my eyes. The year was 1955 and eye surgery was much more complicated then and required a longer period of recuperation than it does in modern times. This was my first day in the sunshine after having surgery on both eyes for detached retinas.

I had been hospitalized in an army hospital away from home and really knew no one. It could have been a very lonely time except for a man who came to see me each day for a visit. He always lingered for about an hour. He talked with me, prayed with me and read to me. His voice was deep and reassuring. He read scripture as though he had written it. Sometimes I had the feeling that he was not reading, he was just quoting.

There were times he read the morning paper to me keeping me up to date on the happenings of the world around me. One of my favorite times was when he chose to read poetry or fiction. His voice sounded like the characters, becoming a deep base or a lovely falsetto. I could not believe that hearing “ In Flanders Fields”, by John McCrae, made me want to cry. I could see the beautiful poppies blowing in the wind. He read “Boots” by Rudyard Kipling, and I felt that I could actually hear the sloshing of boots in Africa. His voice lifted me out of myself into wonderful worlds.

He would describe to me the scenes around me that I could not see. The snow fell at Fort Campbell that year and, as a girl from South Louisiana, I had never seen snow. My visitor made it seem so beautiful. Told me that is how my sin had become because of Jesus Christ. He brought me a handful of snow and let me feel and taste it.

I anticipated his visit today as I sat for the first time outside of the hospital. I could hear the sounds of planes overhead, the sounds of vehicles on the streets, the sounds of laughter of the nurses and patients as they strolled in the sunshine. Oh, how I wanted to share this spring morning with him. This was the day the bandages and the “blindfold” was to come off. He came for a little while and shared Jesus’ words from Matthew 9:29; “Then He touched their eyes saying, ‘According to your faith let it be to you.’” With those words he left and I was never to see him again.

When the bandages were removed I asked the doctor if my visitor from the hospital would be back later. He looked puzzled and said there was no visitor from the hospital. “We have all felt sorry for you because you were so alone. But you always had such a good spirit about you. We couldn’t understand how you did it.”

The nurse responded, “there is a note here that was on your bedside table. Should I read it to you?” “Of course, I answered, please do.” I knew in my heart that it must be from him and he was too busy with other patients to be with me now.

The nurse unfolded the paper and with a rather astonished look on her face read the words, “With Love, your Reader.”

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I really enjoyed reading this. Your descriptions were so well done and alive; it felt as if I were there with you. (One misspelling: you meant "bass" voice rather than "base.") But that only made me hesitate a second so I could get on with the wonderful narrative. It's a beautiful and moving piece.

I once had a detached retina after a major move across state, no new job yet, and only six months left to finish the last (and hardest) independent study class. I still remember the fear of losing my sight and not finishing my degree after eight long years of full-time work and full-time school...so your tale definitely reminded me of God's faithfulness and help. It felt like I was sitting on the bench with you and listening to your visitor too. Good job.

This is a lovely moving piece - I'd love to know if the Reader left anything else in the note - but now I think about it, love was the best message. Congratulations on your placing at your level and 20th overall! Well done.